the ones who give
by kanmuri
Summary: Both the ones who give and the ones who are given become trash. Obito's one fine example. (Companion piece to "the ones who are given," but can stand alone. Spoilers up to chapter 655.)


Title: the ones who give

Pairing/s: None.

Disclaimer: i did it i finally wrote the second part

Summary: Obito's one fine example.

* * *

Obito is standing outside the academy, not quite tall enough to look through the window without going on his tippy-toes, not quite warm enough to stop his teeth from chattering. He's got wide brown eyes and big white smile and a face he wants the world to see someday. He's six years old and his home in the Uchiha compound has been burned down for almost a month now, and they say in another month he'll move into to the new one they're building just for him.

He's not sure what to think about that-a big house with no family left.

"_Hey, loser_," his brother Yuuhei's dead voice whispers in his ears. He kicks Obito under the table where their mother can't see, and his words are sharp and cruel. "_Hear you can't throw a shuriken straight yet. It's a good thing you don't have any friends. They'd be embarrassed to be seen with you_."

"_Hey, loser_," his brother Benjiro says, but his voice is softer, gentler, kinder. "_Need any help with shuriken practice? You'll need to be better if you want to get into the academy_."

"_Hey, loser_," his cousins sneer. Their faces are cold and dark with hate, and their lips curl in ugly laughter. "_You're barely even an Uchiha, dumbass. Why should we let a little dropout like you play Ninja with us?_"

Obito stares through the window, and then he's grinning, but there's no hint of any of his hurt or loneliness or anything but pure, unadulterated _joy_, because he can see a boy in there with white hair and grey eyes who looks _his age_, and if that boy can get into the academy, then so can he. And one day, Obito thinks, his face is going to be staring out at Konoha from a rock that nobody will ever be able to forget. (_never again_.)

Obito loves the world, despite the war and the heartbreak he's suffered. He's going to fix it no matter what.

* * *

Obito is standing in a field, not quite strong enough to carry his own weight without Tobi, not quite steady enough to keep his hands from shaking. He's got wide brown eyes and trembling lips and **_no no no no no no no no-_**. He's fifteen years old and he hasn't seen Kakashi or Rin or Sensei in nearly a year, now, and now he's never going to see Rin _ever again_ **_NO NO NO NO NO NO-_**

He doesn't want to think-he doesn't.

"_Aren't the Uchiha all elite ninjas?_" Kakashi's voice wonders at the back of his head, and _God_ he was an asshole, his voice always dry, always bored, and the sound penetrates Obito's thoughts like a dull ache. "_What's up with you?_"

"_I'll protect my friends!_" Obito's own voice shouts. The words aren't kind or gentle but angry and determined, because he_ needs_ to be strong now, he needs to protect Rin, he needs her to be _alive_ **_OH GOD-_**

"_Dust in your eye?_" a voice sneers from far away, but Obito barely hears it, barely senses the cold hatred, barely recognizes it as his own, because **_Rin is dead, Rin is dead, Kakashi killed her NO NO NO NO NO NO-_**

Obito stares out at the field, and then he's screaming, _screaming,_ but not with fear or love or anything but suffocating, soul-eating _hurt_, because he can see a boy there with white hair and mix-matched eyes drowning in a pool of his own blood, and if _he_ couldn't protect Rin, how can anyone? Obito's face is swallowed in a mask and he doesn't care, because there's nothing left for him to care about anymore and nobody left for him to become.

He hates the world. He's going to end it no matter what.

* * *

Obito is lying face-up on war ground, not quite wrong enough to try and fight, not quite right enough to say he's sorry. (He is, he wishes none of this had ever happened.) He wonders if he's more like Kakashi than Naruto these days, and laughs a little at the irony. He's got mix-matched eyes and white hair and and long scars that drag down the side of his face (and a deep sadness in his soul, and dead friends, and enough self-loathing to drown a city.) He's thirty-two years old and the shortest war in Shinobi history has gone on for far too long.

"Obito," Minato-sensei says, and his eyes are kind and sad. "When we were pulling on each other's chakra, I was able to see inside your heart."

(_No_, Obito thinks, _that's ugly and full of hatred_. _No one should see it, never ever ever_.)

"I also thought the world was just hell," Kakashi says, lowering his hand. "After I lost you… and right after that, Rin… and then I even lost Minato-sensei..."

(_You didn't lose me_, Obito thinks. _I'm a loser. Why would you be sad about losing me?_)

"You could see that world, too, if you wanted. We have the same eyes, after all."

(_Your world is even darker than mine_, Obito thinks. _How… how can you see that light? How can you see anything at all?_)

Slowly, Obito stares out at the world through Kakashi's eyes, for the first time in a very long time. And then he's crying, sobbing, because the hurt and fear and loneliness is there, yes, but there's also love. So much love, and it blots all the other feelings out. Love for Naruto and Sasuke and Sakura. Love even for those who've passed on (_mother, father, obitorinsensei_.) And Obito is crying, because through Kakashi he can see a boy with white hair and mix-matched eyes lying on the ground, hidden in a scarred face that died long ago and that Kakashi somehow never, ever forgot.

_I'm going to fix this_, Obito thinks.

A few feet away, his mask lays broken on the ground.

* * *

_fin_


End file.
